


strumming my pain with her fingers

by callmeshakesqueer



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: 70s AU, F/F, Falling In Love, Filthy, Gay Bar, Internalized Homophobia, Runaway, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Summer Romance, singer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeshakesqueer/pseuds/callmeshakesqueer
Summary: 70s AU where Zulema is a mysterious singer and Macarena just escaped her dysfunctional family and finds herself captivated by the stranger.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 41
Kudos: 117





	1. black ferrari

It’s an unfamiliar area of the town, at least for her. The streets are jammed and noisy, loud conversations bury the music played every couple of meters. Streetlamps are useless when every place is opened and flashing in colourful lights.

“Where are we going?” Macarena asks her companion, holding her hand as she is pulled through the crowds; some people are dancing, in pairs, in groups or individually, others chattering or clapping to the music.

The night is warm and the stars seem to be closer than ever. Perhaps if she reaches out, she could touch them. Alive, everything around is so alive.

“You’ll see,” Rizos turns her head, her braided locks hitting Macarena’s face and she scrunches her nose. Their tempo becomes faster until both of them are in a narrow alley, darker than the main street.

“Is it one of the places Saray recommended to you?”

Quite frankly, Macarena wouldn’t be surprised. Saray is a specialist in finding the most obscure and shady places and bringing them there. Well, bringing Rizos there who can’t refuse to the charm of her girlfriend and Maca comes always, too, just in case, if something didn’t work out. Usually third-wheeling and waiting for the women to walk her home and then go wherever they always meet alone.

“One can say that,” Rizos winks to her when they are standing before the wooden and hard door. “She knows the owner and she mentioned the place a couple of times.”

Kabila knocks three times on the surface, waiting patiently and glancing one time at confused, yet intrigued Maca before someone cracks open the door. She can’t really see who is standing behind them but they stay silent and don’t make a room for them to enter. A door chain stays locked.

“ _Black Ferrari_.”

Rizos smiles expectantly and after a few seconds which feel like hours, the chain falls down and the door open with a tall wide man standing behind them.

“Welcome to the _Cruz Del Sur_ ,” His voice is soft when they enter a dimly-lit hallway and go all the way to a loud room.

Despite being already used to the lively and bright culture of places Rizos takes her since she moved to the north coast, Ferreiro is surprised this time by the atmosphere. There are women everywhere and not a single man in sight; she checks a couple of times making sure every time she sees a girl with a short hairstyle.

“Oh, God,” She murmurs under her breath but Rizos, who already let go of her hand, hears her and grins with all of her teeth.

“I know, right?” She looks like she belongs exactly in this place, wearing her confidence so visibly as she heads towards the counter in front of them. “It’s not that bad, more like you.”

“What do you mean by more like me’?” Macarena rushes on her platformed sandals.

Both of them sit on the stools and wait for the barman, while Maca doesn’t stop staring at Rizos who finally answers with a smirk.

“ _Bollera_.”

“Rizos!”

She still isn’t used to… all of this. Especially not to the free openness of her closest friend and roommate. Her parents would forbid meeting with a person who even says this word out loud, but they are not here and they ever won’t be and Macarena reminds herself before snapping at Kabila.

“Oh, calm down, Maca. Look around - are any of those women straight?”

That’s an excellent question which Macarena has been asking herself since she started to stare at the strangers. The soft curve of their necks and sharp jawlines, chubby cheeks and round hips. She feels like a fucking predator who can’t keep her eyes steady and respectful.

“What can I get you?”

The barman finally appears and it’s an older woman, the red lights hang every several bottles of alcohol behind her, which make her lightened up in this colour.

“Tequila Sunrise, please,” Rizos answers with the most charming smile, hoping for a discount as always.

“And for you friend?”

Maca realizes it’s about her and she turns her attention back from all the guests in the bar, “I’ll have only water.”

Rizos shrugs at the barman’s raised eyebrows and places a couple of coins on the counter, sliding them further and nudges Macarena when the woman is gone.

“Everything is good with you?” Macarena doesn’t really know the answer; she is way too confused to find it right now. There are no negative feelings certainly, although the beauty of women around her is overwhelming and she can’t stop thinking most of the people in this room is like her. And they don’t give a damn. When she notices a couple on one of the brown sofas kissing she gives herself a second or two to peek at them.

“Listen, sweetheart, I know it’s a big breakthrough for you, but it’s really okay.” Rizos turns into her big old lesbian self, nodding her head as if she is reminding her passed youth. “You need to chill a little bit.”

When the barman gives them their drinks, she pushes her tequila towards Macarena, “Take a sip and relax a bit, enjoy the show.”

“What show?” The blonde asks and brings a glass to her mouth, twisting her face at the taste.

In the same moment, lights are turned up on the stage at the end of the room, the staff is walking around it fixing and untangling cables, testing the microphone on a holder. The jukeboxes in every corner are turned off and people shift on their seats, whispering between each other before.

Rizos tries to pull her towards one of the couches where she notices Saray but Macarena makes her sit down back by the counter, pouting.

“You won’t even focus on whatever will happen on the stage, c’mon,” Macarena holds her arm and tries to make her stop staring at Saray. “Focus, lovebird, and then you will go to your girl.”

Rizos sulks but settles into her previous position and downs her tequila right with her irritation. Ferreiro also plans on drinking her water but almost chokes when she sees the woman walking onto the stage, whose energy suddenly reaches every inch of the place.

Everyone starts clapping before she can say anything into the microphone, some people yell out and she is obviously known here, but she doesn’t even put a smile onto her lips, simply nodding and looking impatient to begin.

“Good evening to you, too,” She finally speaks up when the excited voices die out. “My _hermana_ asked me to perform one song dedicated to her one and only tonight.“ The woman rolls her eyes and several people laugh and glance towards Saray. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the pair and Macarena opens her eyes widely and instantly starts questioning her friend.

“Saray has a sister?”

“I might as well ask you! I had no idea,” Rizos is ready to jump onto Vargas, crushing her with many questions.

Smooth music starts playing in the background, a man who walked out of the side door is sitting by the stage and is playing the guitar, another person holding a microphone to the instrument which strings let out gentle sounds.

Macarena watches with a focus she’s never had the way singer’s hips sway to the soft music, observes every move of hers. The dark red trousers fit well onto the curve of her thighs and hips, becoming loose coming by her calves, swaying with every step of her light dance. Both of her hands are tightened around the microphone holder, the sleeves of her black blouse, tied under her chest, cover her palms and loosely set onto her upper body. The colour of it matches her hair, jet black, straightened aside for a couple of strands of her parted bangs and hair close to her face.

_I heard she sang a good song, I heard she had a style_

_And so I came to see her and listen for a while_

_And there she was this young girl, a stranger to my eyes_

Her voice is much more delicate when she is singing, every word sounds like a spell. And more importantly - it is absolutely, without any doubt, working on Macarena. She falls under it just the way she fell into the waters of the Bay of Biscay yesterday morning; at first not being aware where is the depth and where is the surface, rolling in the water searching for a way to find oxygen but finally giving in and staying in place, immediately calming down when her body pushed itself out of the water. Then, she dived once again, and again and this time she does the same. She doesn’t even try to raise out of the spell of the singer, just dissolves underneath it and observes how her lips move with every line.

_Strumming my pain with her fingers_

_Singing my life with her words_

Their eyes meet across the room. Macarena finds it’s feeling like everyone else in the room disappeared and the morena is singing just for her. She gently moves her lips to the song, along with the woman who makes her head spin like crazy.

_Killing me softly with her song_

_Killing me softly with her song_

_Telling my whole life with her words_

_Killing me softly with her song_

The singer cuts their eye-contact, glancing around the room but Macarena doesn't even try to glue off her eyes as if the woman could disappear.

It ends earlier than expected, the song is shorter than Maca remembers. Could be longer, could last hours until Saray's sister's voice would crack or she would need water and Ferreiro would be glad to deliver it.

“Any songs recommendation?” The singer asks, taking the water bottle put by the edge of the stage. “Tonight you choose, whatever you like.”

Women call out through each other various titles, and the list becomes so long that the little concert turns into two hours one, filled with love, broken-hearted, dancing songs and pairs soon walk to the middle of the bar, chairs and tables are placed aside and everyone finds a rhythm in deep voice resounding in the place.

Through all that chaos, towards the end of it, Macarena loses sight of her friend and finds her later spinning with Saray who greets her with a wave of her hand before they disappear in the bathroom.

While she is busy, observing them make fools out of themselves, she doesn’t notice someone sitting next to her until she hears a raspy voice speaking to the barman.

“Two whiskeys, please.”

It makes all every hair on Macarena’s arms stand up, despite it’s hot inside and she turns around to be met with a face she stared at for hours. Green eyes are examining her with bold shine in them, finding their way from her face down her neck, chest and legs to just come back and accompany in the smirk stretching out on brunette’s dark lips.

Macarena starts curling a strand of her hair and puts one leg on another, tilting her head curiously.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” The brunette says when two glasses are slid over the surface towards her and she puts one of them in front of Maca. “First time here? Or did I just have bad luck in meeting you?”

“First time, actually,” She lets go of her hair and brings the drink to her lips, praying not to start choking on it. It burns her throat and she blushes all the way down to her exposed neck.

“And first time whiskey, too?”

“I’m not very fond of alcohol.”

“Really?”

 _No, I just fucking hate getting wasted and ending up grounded for a month, locked up in my own room because my parents are psychopaths_ , she wants to answer but shrugs, smiling politely.

“I didn’t catch your name yet,” She changes the topic pronto.

It seems to surprise the singer as she raises her eyebrows and slightly opens her lips, but a little smile still dancing in the corners of her mouth.

“Zulema Zahir,” She rolls the ‘r’ in her last name the way Macarena wishes to hear the one in her own name be pronounced. In different circumstances, tangled underneath the bedsheets, sweaty and marked and making the other woman gasp in the dirtiest way possible, perhaps on her-

She notices expectant look and collects herself.

“Macarena Ferreiro.”

_God. So many ‘r’. Repeat it. If the universe ever listened, please make Zulema say her name, one time. Please._

The universe, how it turns out, listens.

“Macarena Ferreiro… sounds like a name I met with before,” Zulema glances up, searching through her memory. She finishes her drink soon and gestures to the barman to fill it up again. She doesn’t touch it for now, though.

“Perhaps from your sister?”

“My sister?”

“Saray,” Maca explains, following Zulema in alcohol amount but shaking her head at the proposition of refill.

“ _Oye! Si_ , she mentioned you once or twice,” Her voice sounds like danger, absolutely different than the angel’s one on the stage; Macarena wants to listen to as well for so long. “You’re the new girl here?”

Macarena laughs, with lack of patience. Hearing it at least once per day for last two months plays with her nerves very well - at work, at Saray’s open parties, at bars, restaurants, anywhere Rizos brings her - she is always the new girl.

“That explains why we haven’t met before here,” Zulema brings herself closer in a second that Ferreiro isn’t even able to catch and lowers her voice if it’s even possible. “I’d remember a face like this.”

“And _vice versa_ ,” Macarena murmurs, not daring to disrupt this moment, swallowing hard.

Rizos and Saray walk past them and take a couple of steps back with suspicious grins.

“Maca, I see you found some company!” Rizos shouts way too loud, her hand holding onto Saray’s waist who leans further to give her sister a kiss on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Zule,” She is slightly slurring her words but her eyes or movements don’t show any alcohol libation. “Would you be so nice and walk home Macarena? We have places to go and people to meet.”

Zahir frowns at her but nods, and they don’t waste any minute more to stay and storm out the room.

“Yes, they have their bed to go to and meet each other’s asses, that’s their plans,” Zulema comments and pushes the glass away, still full.

Macarena widens her eyes at the words. That’s _definitely_ not something she is used to, all those bold words that make her pull closer into the orbit of the brunette.

“So? _Rubia_ , let’s get you home.”

“Zulema! Wait!”

She rushes after her because Zahir is already walking towards the exit on her long legs, a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder as she is holding a piece of it with two fingers on her chest and not even turning back to see is Macarena is keeping up with her.

Ferreiro leaves a bill on the counter for their drinks with no one around to explain the situation and runs after her, her high ponytail falling into messy locks.


	2. room 93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!  
> i'm back with another chapter, more... filthy??/? this time?  
> enjoy those gays fucking each other's brains out  
> and comment what do you think cuz it gives me hella motivation!

Through their night stroll on the streets, more empty by now and quieter, only some lights in windows are on and groups of people get smaller. Macarena notices the warmth her body keeps emanating, especially when their arms brush, despite night getting colder.

Zulema decided to lead them through another path to Maca’s neighbourhood and idiotically, she trusts this almost complete stranger to not kidnap her in the middle of a dark alley.

They end up walking a road by the beach, breeze messing with their clothes. Macarena with arms around her middle stares at the waves hitting the shore, stopping just after Zulema does.

“Listen, I just have to take one thing from my motel room,” Zulema says when she stops walking by a dark building with a red neon sign which two first letters are broken and only “TEL” is glowing. “You can stay here because I’m not getting accused of taking you somewhere and murdering or whatever.”

It’s a rational solution, so Maca nods but after being left alone in this empty parking lot and hearing Zulema’s farther steps, she panics and runs after her just when the door to her room opens and she bumps with a force straight into her back.

They fall into the room, the door shutting behind them as they stumble and Zahir pushes her right onto the wall by the door, while finding a steady position and murmuring every curse that the Spanish language knows.

“What the hell?” She raises her voice and turns on the dim light of poor lightbulbs and finds Macarena right before her, stuck between two hands resting on the wall. The blonde is panting, both of fright and excitement when she gets to see the face she’s grown to adore in this one single evening.

“I just- I didn’t want to be left alone,” Macarena whispers, as her eyes slide down onto pair of lips.

Of course, Zulema notices.

“Not the smoothest way to get into my pants,” She chuckles seeing dispair in Macarena’s eyes who tries to object politely and apologize.

However, she doesn’t let her even start the carousel of embarrassing exchanges and leans in, pressing harshly her lips to Maca's. She feels the woman freeze in place, her lips indifferent beneath her and she is ready to move back but then, Macarena throws her hands and entangles them around her neck.

Zulema pushes her body so there is no gap between them and her hand explores Ferreiro’s soft skin on her waist and stomach, one hand slipping behind her back to bring her close, so close they could make one silhouette in darkness of the blue night.

Macarena’s lips kiss her with such hunger and force, that Zulema finds out it soon becomes a battle of who can dominate the other while she tastes Macarena with her tongue and bites her bottom lip, drawing a short breathless gasp from the blonde.

Before acting on what Macarena has been planning for a moment - pushing Zulema away just to land on the big bed taking up half of the room - she feels a knee pressing up against her jeans and rubbing slowly against the material. It makes her hold onto Zulema’s neck, almost hanging onto it when her legs refuse to stand straight and she has to rest her head on the wall, parting their lips as the knee moves regularly and tormentedly up and down her centre.

Not being able to endure more, she opens her eyes, her vision hazy, and gazes at Zulema who is observing her closely. Almost reading like a book; the way her chest rises and falls in a fast tempo, how she opens her lips.

That’s when she gains enough strength in her weak knees to straighten up and suddenly push Zahir to the bed, following just behind her.

Zulema’s legs hit the edge of the bed and she falls down, resting on her elbows in the last moment to sit up. Macarena finds her place in the singer’s lap; she sighs as Zulema pulls one part of her red loose shirt tied in the middle and it falls undone behind them when Maca escapes its sleeves. Zahir’s mouth starts to wander on all exposed skin. She places delicate kisses starting from her puls point down to collarbone and where her breasts aren’t covered by a simple white bra. It surprises her - the softness of touch because Zulema seemed like a rough lover - after all, she started out with all those crude touches and pushing, grinding; yet right now her lips are ghostly marks licking her with gentleness.

Macarena tugs at her black blouse but Zulema shakes her head, ending the kissing.

“We have to make some rules, _Rubia_ ,” Zulema whispers, her voice raspier as they move further; Macarena is thrown down onto the bed, with Zahir hovering over her. She is interrupted when Maca raises her head and kisses her, again and again until all her lips remember is the taste of whiskey and cigarettes and surprisingly - raspberries.

“Then, tell me them, darling,” Macarena murmurs into her ear while her hand slides between their bodies and finds the zipper of red trousers.

Zulema awakens something unknown in her, something buried so deep and forbidden that she can’t recognise her own voice while she tries to get the trousers off and places kisses on Zulema’s shoulders and neck. She prefers the version of herself that is created in the motel room 93 underneath the talented woman; she’s never felt such freedom in being simply Macarena.

“You don’t take off my shirt, most importantly,” Zulema says, keeping a groan in her throat when Macarena cups her buttocks after taking her pants down to her knees.

It disappoints Ferreiro but of course, she nods and focuses on the task to take off the rest of Zulema’s garments. She gets easily distracted when they kiss again and roll through the bedsheets, messing them up while her bra and bell-bottoms jeans disappear, thrown somewhere on the floor. Finally, Zulema’s trousers and underwear follow in their path.

With one hand she keeps Macarena’s hands above her head, pinned to the mattress, the other one slowly circles around her nipples, never really touching them. Her eyes track how they harden, every shiver on Macarena’s body, and how she rubs herself on Zulema’s leg in between while the other of them stays on the outside of her hip. It makes Zahir dripping wet but she stays calm and collected, eventually leaning down and kissing Macarena’s breasts what soon turns into licking and then she sucks onto her left nipple. The moan leaving the blonde’s mouth shoots a warmth down her stomach and she barely stops herself from also rubbing herself down. She takes care of the other breast equally well, prisoning hands who try to escape her hold.

“Please, Zulema…” Macarena has her eyes closed and she clenches herself on Zulema’s thigh.

“Hm… what do you want?”

“Please, kiss me.”

She expects everything but not this and it startles her so much, she actually obeys and lets go off Maca’s hands and cups her cheek to kiss her with opened lips, their tongues connecting. It becomes her soft spot, how the blonde writhing underneath opens her mouth, gives herself up completely. Her other hand finds a way down and presses itself against a damp material between Macarena’s legs.

Another moan, louder than before.

_This girl is so fucking loud_ , Zulema thinks but moves her hand to hear it again and again. She’s heard many songs before and has sung even more but hearing Macarena get off on a simple touch may be one of her new favourites.

Where she expects complete allegiance, she finds a revolt.

Macarena charms her with her gasps and moans enough to lose control for a moment. And it’s all it takes for her to roll Zulema over and sit on her lap, bending down enough to rub her panties against Zahir’s labia and kiss her neck.

“And another rule-” She starts out but takes a shaky breath when Macarena bites a spot on her neck and then places kisses over it. “You don’t do this.”

“Well, I seem to be doing _this_ just at the moment,” Macarena smiles and Zulema feels it against her skin. It’s so goddamn hard to focus when-

Macarena grinds down harder. She raises her hips quickly and takes off her underwear, leaving herself naked, only her messed up hairstyle being the cover for her but she brushes them on her back and tucks behind the ears.

Before she can sit down to the place she found the most pleasant, two fingers slide through her folds and search through them, circling and rubbing the best places. She opens her mouth for a silent moan and moves forward to be closer to Zulema, ending up on her hips. She doesn’t move down, keeping herself in the air while Zahir smirks at her, making her wetter and wetter.

“ _Princesa_ , lean down to me,” She orders and Macarena does it immediately feeling how one of finger’s tip enter her. She can’t stand it and her hips go down feeling how Zulema is stretching her out and moans right into the brunette’s face, one of her hands sliding beneath Zulema’s neck and grabbing her shoulder, the other gently caressing her breasts through the blouse.

“Can I do that?” She realizes and asks, opening her eyes.

Zulema nods, not really sure but God, it feels good, all this attention on her. Macarena hides her face in the crook of her neck and starts placing kisses all over the skin, biting down when a second finger enters her, curling up the way it hits all the right buttons. She rides them, moving her hips more frantically with every passing movement and tries to take more and more and more.

“Zulema, more, please,”

As wished, the third finger enters Macarena’s tight cunt and she loves the view of her ass moving up and down, loves the feeling of those narrow walls clenching around her rhythmically.

“You ride my fingers like you’ve been trained for it. Have you had more experience, Rubia?” Zulema knows it works immediately when she feels thighs above move closer together, trying to find release and the way Macarena holds onto her shoulders, moaning into her ear, brushing her teeth against her earlobe. “You’re doing so well in something so bad. Letting yourself be fucked by a woman you met tonight? So bad. You don’t seem like the type to such crazy things.”

She should let herself use this tongue of herself more recklessly often because it works miracles. Macarena is whispering all curses she knows in every language, riding three fingers completely out of beat, just speeding the tempo with every push, one of her hands trying to find a way to her clit.

But Zulema is quicker, finding the right spot and rolling her fingers while circling her clit and Macarena stills for a moment, her thighs violently clasping together, squashing Zulema in between, her head burying deeper in her neck.

Then, there it is.

Silence is over and a painfully long moan, right from the bottom of her throat, leaves her lips. She rolls her hips and Zahir helps her ride out the orgasm until she feels her walls unclenching and takes her fingers out, bringing them to her mouth and tasting Macarena.

This sound seems to bring Maca back to life and she folds back, to be met with an erotic sight of Zulema staring straight into her eyes while licking finger one by one. She can’t enjoy the view fully as stars still dance in front of her eyes.

Rizos was right all this time; she needed to get laid and she would feel better. All true.

"I want to know how you taste," She says when her eyes gain focus and her body doesn't feel like falling apart anymore.

Zulema's eyes darken with lust.

"Turn the lights off," She says, her voice raspy and moves aside so Macarena can crawl from the bed.

She watches her every step, legs tripping on her way and her eyes wander around her body, looking up and down her round ass and small waist.

When the darkness falls in the room, she positions her head onto the big pillow and rests her hands underneath it. By the time her eyes get used to the lack of light, she can see a silhouette clambering onto the bedsheets and soon has a warm breath by her face.

Macarena kisses her lips, making her way down the neck while one of her hands wanders down and caresses the smoothness of her thighs, hearing a sharp breath above.

She looks up with glistening eyes at Zulema, when she suites herself between the legs that she puts on her shoulders and her hands are tucked underneath her ass, ready for the main course.

There was only one time she’s eaten someone out - middle of the high school, at a party, stuck in her best friend’s boyfriend’s car, licking her until both of them were panting from adrenaline and fright. Though, she never finished as the boy opened the door, wanting to get home and found them half-naked on the backseat, almost yelling out and throwing them out of the vehicle, driving away.

For the next four months, she was terrified he would tell someone that there is something wrong with her. That she needed fixing, as her parents already thought.

Since then, she’s never let herself do it. Until tonight; she can already sense the sweet smell of cunt in front of her face.

She starts with kissing inner thighs, almost floating away in bliss of the beauty of this woman, of the softness of her skin, of the delicateness she finds in women and yet their strength she is reminded of when Zulema pounds her heels into her back.

The first kiss she places right onto her clit, finding out Zahir is one of the more quiet lovers; she can hear heavy breathing above but nothing more. And she wants to change it, necessarily. The taste on her tongue as she explores the folds, sucking on them and kissing, is heavenly; her nose is buried between the dark hair and her nails pin into the skin, holding down Zulema who raises her hips.

When she stops for a moment, she gets the result she wished for.

“Fuck,” Zulema pants, trying to get out of her hands’ hold, trying to find the tongue once again. “Don’t stop!”

Honestly, Macarena is not one to riot right now and she dips the tip of her tongue into Zulema, and it takes her by surprise tightening her muscles and it motives Ferreiro to go deeper, the deepest she can, fucking Zulema with her tongue like she didn’t know she is able to. She circles her tongue pushing onto the walls, teasing - pulling away - and then coming right back, edging her for a short time until focusing on doing it properly.

She moves fast, while massaging her buttocks, her tongue finding a way out and in. She can tell by the quicker breathing and the way Zulema tangles her hands into her hair, holding it right by the scalp and pushing her down, by how her thighs entangle around her neck and help her move with the rhythm to meet Macarena’s mouth halfway that she is very close.

The wet sounds she is making, of sweetly fucking her pussy, resound in the room and it turns Zulema even more, accompanying it with her soft and muffled groans which accidentally escape her mouth.

“What do you want, Zulema?” Macarena looks up and the view is close to murdering Zahir, despite she’s been in much more risky situations. This one, however, may kill her in a figure of slick chin and face buried between her legs.

With all the strength she owns, she pushes Macarena down, not bearing to just look at her and needing to _feel_ her.

This time the blonde focuses on her clit, and it takes three flicks of her tongue for Zulema to stop in place, holding her hips still and opening her mouth in a silent moan. Macarena breaks out from the hold and glances as much as she can at the parted lips and closed eyes, and Zulema’s back arching with her head turned back.

It’s intense, all of the feelings and it seems electricity kicks in with every kiss Macarena places on her skin to soothe down the orgasm. She crawls back on top on Zulema who finally has her eyelids uplifted and they kiss again, so the brunette can taste herself and she cleans up Macarena’s wet mouth.

Macarena falls down onto the bed next, processing everything that happened. Meanwhile, Zulema reaches over her and takes a pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it up.

Ferreiro watches for a while how Zulema’s profile is lightened up by the little flame of the lighter, her pressed lips, holding the cigarette in between; the small nose-bump which she wants to touch and slide her finger all the way down her nose. And eyes but she got to know them well enough by now.

For a couple of minutes, they stay silent, Macarena getting back her energy and Zulema blowing out the smoke and making the room fill with it.

“Do you want one?” She asks after a while.

Macarena has never smoked before and never found it intriguing, but doing it in this godforsaken motel room with this hellish woman makes it seem attractive. So, she takes one and lights it up with shaking hands.

She is sure she will die after she starts to choke after breathing in.

“Rubia! What the hell are you doing?” Zulema mocks her cough and laughs out loud, taking the cigarette from her mouth after finishing her own.

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

Macarena can’t afford thinking about the consequences of tonight. She patiently waits for Zulema to throw the cigarette away and then she sits up on her lap again, leaning for a kiss, tasting like tobacco.

Zulema chuckles when she sees her foolish smile, needy for more kisses and Maca cannot help but laugh too, moving closer.

Just this one night and she will stop. She will become who she is supposed to without adventures like this. One more night.


	3. one of ten commandments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back!  
> thank you for all kudos and comments,  
> hope you enjoy this one as well

Macarena comes back to _Cruz del Sur_ next evening.

She rationalizes it with the fact Rizos invited her because it’s karaoke night and her friend adores karaoke. Also, she ignores the fact she hates karaoke and says she’s doing it just for Rizos. Because she is a great friend and supports Kabila in everything.

This simple way, she ends up sitting in one of the corner couches with whiskey in hand and morning newspaper she took with her, knowing it will end up this exact way.

Today there are fewer people as it’s utterly hot, the temperature so high most people stayed at home and tried to calm the summer high down. Rizos is already singing her third song, howling without awareness, the alcohol in her veins making her believe in her own talent too much.

Saray joins her for this one, and it creates a sorry sight for eyes and even worse event for ears.

Macarena surely prefered when they sat together on the couch and she didn’t feel so alienated, now all that’s left is looking at that unfortunate duo and wait for them to finish up, so they can continue another round of shots. She actually became a little bit too loose with alcohol next to those two, yet she doesn’t really mind. They never judge, it never even passes through their mind.

Thank God, they decide to stop after this song and join her back in the booth, Rizos falling onto her and laughing out loud.

“So much fun!” She exclaims, taking Macarena’s glass from her hands. “You must do it with us next time.”

She nods politely, putting the newspaper down on the table, seeing Saray back with three drinks in her hands, grinning and leaning down to kiss Rizos’ cheek.

“Yeah, great fun,” Saray rolls her eyes but the way she is looking at her girlfriend gives her away instantly.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Rizos grins and takes her glass, downing the drink.

Both, Macarena and Saray follow her but when their drinks are emptied and fall back on the surface in front of them, time stops for a moment.

Right by their table, Zulema walks past, acting as she’s not recognizing them, her hands searching through pockets and a cigarette in her mouth and she leaves quickly the place.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Maca gets up, too frantically almost making the glasses fall and tripping over her legs.

Both of them glance at her; Saray with one eyebrow raised and arms crossed on chest and Rizos smirking while she’s still looking at the place where Zulema was before.

“Sure.”

Quite frankly, Macarena doesn’t even wait for their answer, just rushes towards the door. This unnatural power pulling her where she isn’t supposed to go - to the place that feels like her downfall. The downfall of the control over herself, of rests of normality and sanity she managed to take from her family household, of her pretend to not feel overwhelming attraction to women.

In conclusion, a complete catastrophe.

Zulema is standing a couple of feet further, in the narrow lane where the entrance is hidden. She leans against the wall, smoke blowing through her nostrils and lips; her eyes observe the main street carefully but immediately turn, hearing the noise.

“ _Hola_ ,” Macarena says quietly, suddenly feeling shy as she is approaching. She wants to kiss her but something tells her she is not supposed to anymore.

In a form of greeting Zulema blows out smoke straight into her face and it makes Maca take a step closer until she is close she can recognize the warmth of the singer’s body between the terrible heat of summer night.

A question pops out in her head: since when Zulema is so taller than her?

“Got bored of your friends?”

“One may say that,” Macarena smiles, an idea forming in her head. “Do you want to join me for a walk?”

That seems to surprise Zulema.

“A walk? Exactly like yesterday?”

Macarena narrows her eyebrows, analyzing every word she said to see if she could sound this way. “Wh- No! Come with me and see by yourself.”

It’s still early, enough that not all stars find their places on the sky or perhaps it’s just the clouds covering them. However, Maca doesn’t care as she leaves the alley and turns to glance back to see Zulema stepping onto the burnt-out cigarette with her giant boot and nods with her head for Macarena to lead.

She feels Zulema before their hands intertwine and they continue their walk arm in arm.

The only thing she is thinking about now is the need for being closer, and away from the parties. So, the easy choice is the beach, away less than a kilometre.

It’s not an easy path after getting out of the town, definitely not made for sandals because they must cross part of seashore filled with stones, sometimes passing them by but mostly stepping onto them. Zulema seems to not have any problem in her combat boots however Macarena doesn’t have in a habit to wear such boots while outside.

“Should I carry you, _princesa_?”

Zahir stops a couple of meters ahead, resting her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrows.

“No, thank you very much,” Macarena stamps her foot angrily and hits it so hard she has to bite her lip to not cry out. She hurries a little bit towards amused Zulema and wants to grab that dumb face of her-

-and kiss her.

Or make her fall onto the stones and leave her stranded on the horrible beach.

Macarena’s never been in this part before, as Rizos always took her to the golden beach more in the north where tourists gather all the time and the best times happen. But she knew it’s a way far from the noise, perhaps the only one.

“Why haven’t you told me it’s so terrible here?” Macarena calls out after the brunette.

“Why would I? It’s not terrible,” Zulema shrugs as they get closer to the sand and heads towards a little peninsula shaped from the hostile stones.

Before Maca can ask why they can’t simply rest on the more friendly seaside, she sees crowds dancing around and wants to yell at all of them to get the hell out of there. But instead, she allows herself to be led down the coast.

The peninsula is short for a two minutes walk and even less wide - the water looks like it’s deep enough to jump right in and that’s what Macarena decides to do.

The next time Zulema turns to check on her, she is already without her sandals and in the middle of taking off the red summer dress, soon left only in the underwear of the same colour. She catches Zahir’s hungry glance and smirks, all the confidence from yesterday shots at her back again.

She jumps in before Zulema can manage to form one single word.

The water is colder than the air, more than Macarena expected and her muscles get tense and the upper teeth start hitting the lower ones, at first. She moves her hands and legs a couple of time, trying to feel the bottom which must be lower. It gets better gradually until she moves freely in the water - it probably isn’t as cold as she felt it in the beginning because of the terrible heat, the strongest of this summer, and the overheating she got in the middle of the day.

Unfortunately, she drinks a little bit of the salty water, spitting it out immediately and lifting her head to see Zulema two meters above her, without her boots.

“Are you going to join me?!” She asks, a foolish grin on her lips and it takes a moment to feel a big splash hitting her in the face.

Zulema doesn’t appear over the surface except for the top of her head until her eyes which observe Macarena like a prey. And Maca doesn’t mind being one.

They are on the outer side of the peninsula, making a fence between them and the beach with locals and tourists, slightly pushed by night waves, gently swiping the shore. All alone. Macarena swims closer and her legs tight around the material of Zulema’s long shirt in her waist and her hands pull her closer into the kiss, finally setting onto the neck to keep her barely centimetres away.

What alarms her down is that Zulema appears to be completely patient, not leaning in and stopping herself.

“Can I kiss you?” She whispers straight into her lips, hardly not touching them.

Zulema nods and presses her lips together, that’s when it strikes Macarena - she is nervous. This badass person of a woman is nervous and her eyes escape her gaze all the time.

Oh God, if she blushed at the moment, too! Macarena would start laughing out loud.

It’s not the best idea to imagine that moment because she is close to chuckling, so simply, she moves closer and everything around them becomes hazy. It’s not exactly like yesterday - it’s not pure desire. There is something more; in between Macarena’s ribs and her throat and burning feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wants to keep kissing Zulema for longer, anywhere she is able to. In every place, she wants to lean in whenever she wants and kiss her. Not look around anxiously to see if somebody can see them.

Because that habit disappears slowly when she is next to Zulema Zahir, the fear of being uncovered, the fear of going to the forbidden places - it all just ceases to exist more and more with every move of her lips.

She doesn't dare to interrupt, kissing her while pulling both of them towards the stones.

"Fuck me, Zulema," She murmurs into the brunette's lips.

A deep groan leaves Zahir's lips; she pushes her onto the wall of the peninsula and opens her legs in the water.

"As you wish."

Perhaps that’s Macarena's own way of confessing her sins. Not the one parents taught her in the church, and later priests and teachers; maybe that’s because it’s never worked, it just was the wrong to do it. It feels like touching Zulema is the only thing Ferreiro was supposed to be taught, that the danger and unknown, catching it all within her hands was one of ten commandments.

~

It’s well past midnight when Macarena is standing in front of the big house where she rents a room with Rizos; all the lights are already turned off.

“You need to change, Zulema!” She whispers angrily, trying to pull the woman towards the door.

“I said I’m fine,” Zulema repeats, her clothes sticking to her wet body. “I’ve already gone through that part of the town, I may as well finish the walk in my freshly washed clothes.”

It may make some sense because the motel where she is staying is not that away from Macarena’s room as it turns out. But there needs to be a reason to stay with Zulema a moment longer.

“You are so stubborn, get over it,” Macarena catches her with the other hand and pulls stronger, so they move a couple of steps towards the door.

“Listen, _Rubia_ ,” Zulema suddenly pushes her at the wall of the house, her wrists pinned to it with Zulema’s.

Somehow the little annoying blonde pushes all of her buttons. _All of them_. And yet it brings her closer instead of pushing away, it’s not natural to feel this attraction to someone so fucking dumb. Like if Zulema lost of her senses which she’s always been so proud of - brains and rationality. But they are smudged and unclear, unlike Macarena’s smell and softness of her skin.

All the lamps go red in her head. They scream run, run and don’t look back. Pack your bags and leave before it gets messier.

“If you want to see me so bad, Maca,” She says with a smirk on her lips. “Then be ready tomorrow in the morning at 10 a.m.. I’ll be waiting just here.”

The wrong solution, Zulema knows as soon as the words leave her mouth. And another wrong one goes just after when she presses her lips to the blonde’s and bites her bottom lip, drawing out a soft gasp from Macarena.

She steps back while Ferreiro sticks to the wall, just to stand straight and not let her legs give out.

And straight into the night, Zulema disappears.

Rizos surprisingly is in their room. As well as unpleasantly.

“God, you didn’t tell me you were going somewhere!” She calls out and hugs Macarena before she can close the door, running into her.

“I was only away for a couple of hours, it’s not like I disappeared,” Maca laughs out at her friend who seems to gain good humour after seeing she is alright.

“Well, for the first time, except for work, you went somewhere without me. Alone,” Rizos makes a surprised face and flops down onto her bed in the right side of the room by the wardrobe and another door which lead to the bathroom they share with three different rooms. “It was kind of stressing.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Macarena can’t stop a foolish smile slipping on her face, uncontrollably. So, she turns back and pretends to be folding clothes she left on her messy bed before going out.

“What?” Rizos acts like a puppy most of the time, even more, when she is dizzy after more alcohol she has surely drunk with Saray after Ferreiro left. “Who?” She realizes after she asks the question and her eyes widen, voice so loud it makes Macarena turn around. “Zulema? As in Saray’s sister?”

“Technically, we are not sisters,”

That’s when Saray walks out of the bathroom with a towel hanging on her shoulders to protect her nightgown from getting wet by her dripping hair.

“Although we’ve spent half a lifetime together,” She sits next to Rizos and starts to brush through her tangled hair. “So, she is like a sister to me. But what about her?”

Macarena opens her mouth to explain because she knows _too well_ Kabila will create bigger chaos than needed and add drama as it is in her known habits.

“Maca went out with her tonight!”

“We didn’t go out,” She snaps too soon and too fast; almost instantly two pair of sceptic eyes meet her and she feels like escaping those judging gazes. “We simply left for a walk.”

“You two had sex,” Saray states calmly, reading every move of Maca’s body.

She has no idea how to react; did Zulema tell her that? Or it’s so obvious when Zulema’s name is only mentioned? The longer she waits to answer the more suspicious it becomes until Saray nods, with a sigh.

“I love her, she is my family but watch out, Maca,” She rolls over the bed to stretch out her legs, looking so careless but the worried look is only for the blonde to see, as Rizos stays back to her. “I know her. And she doesn’t take relations seriously most of the time-”

“Well, I don’t take them seriously either!”

Saray glares at her and continues, “Not because she doesn’t care. Because she cares too much and it kills her. Getting close to her means getting close to a wild animal - eventually, if you get too close, she runs away and there is no possibility of catching her. And she can sting, oh God, how it can hurt when she says too much. Just watch out. I’m telling you this as a friend, not as a protective _hermana_ of Zulema’s. Although I can be that one, too.” She winks and hides under the covers, gesturing Rizos to join her.

Rizos look up at Macarena one time more and promises they will talk about it tomorrow in the morning. And Maca doesn’t have the heart right now to tell her she will be gone by the time she will wake up.


	4. the countryside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think it's my second favourite chapter i've written for this fic ( for the first one you have to wait a week more to read it)  
> it makes me think of summer and freedom and well... maybe i just miss not having seasonal depression 😶  
> hope you enjoy reading it!

Somebody is calling out in front of the house, though it’s barely a quarter after nine, so Macarena ignores it getting dressed into a pair of jean shorts and a velour polo shirt, tying a better first belt she can find underneath her bed.

The person gets her attention when a stone is thrown just by her window and she curses by the sudden sound.

Rizos and Saray turn in their sleep and she steps towards the window, quiet to not disturb them more and there she is. Zulema is standing in her black clothes, hands in the pockets and her head tilted while she is staring at the windows.

Macarena turns the handle and opens it, calling out in a whisper, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Taking you on a trip,”

“You are an hour earlier!”

Zulema rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air, “Oops. Hurry up, _Rubia_.”

“I haven’t eaten my breakfast, wait!” Macarena raises her voice without realizing.

“I haven’t either. We’ll eat on our way,” And then Zulema pulls out a cigarette, waving it to Maca with a devilish smile.

Macarena closes the window and curses under her breath, running to the bathroom and quickly brushing her teeth and pulling her hair into a high ponytail. While rushing through the room to pack her things into a bag, she hears another stone hitting close to the window.

_She is going to kill her_.

On her way out, down the stairs and through the kitchen filled with a couple of residents, she bumps into a man who must have stayed here only overnight and apologizes, trying to get out of the building.

It’s cooler that day, bless God, she notices when she is finally outside.

“I suddenly lost all my want to go with you,” She says when she catches up to Zulema, already behind the white fence of the house.

“What a shame you have no choice.”

“Yes, your charm will surely convince me to go,” Macarena can’t stand her.

Only by then, she sees two bicycles standing a few meters away, both yellow and one with a bag thrown over the handlebar.

“ _Vamos_ ,” Zulema leans in closer until their noses almost touch. As she pulls away she puts her thumb in the corner of Maca’s lips.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you face what you apparently can’t do on your own,” She shows her finger with a white spot of toothpaste and turns to the bikes.

It turns out to be useless to ask Zulema where they are cycling to, only her pleadings for breakfast are heard and they stop in the town, closer to the beach for a quick meal. Macarena eats her toasts and drinks lemonade while Zulema only orders black coffee and adds a single spoon of sugar. She hurries them to get back onto the bicycles; it’s one of the moments when Maca regrets agreeing to this. Food hasn’t even settled in her stomach yet when they begin their adventure again, soon living the town and heading towards the countryside.

They divert towards the fields, filled with growing wheat, almost in its full height. Zulema chooses a rural path between one field and another and is ahead of Ferreiro, calling out to her and standing on the pedals, speeding.

Macarena’s lips open to breathe in the air and she laughs out fully with all of her chest, chasing the brunette. On the straighter path, she brings her hands up in the air, balancing and still laughing.

The Sun is already high in the sky when they leave colourful fields and find themselves in a village where everything is green and right before them passes a herd of sheep.

“You should have seen your face,” Macarena can’t seem to stop laughing when they are free to go and the road is clear.

Zulema glares at her and falls silent, pouting.

While they keep on riding between houses and gardens, also rich in flowers and plants, Macarena can’t even focus on them as she keeps on staring at Zulema’s jawline which is uncovered by hair taken back into a low ponytail. She is wearing a lower neckline in her black shirt and it distracts Maca so hard she almost drives into bushes not seeing they have to turn left.

They pass one last lonely house and behind it, there is a direct track to the cliffside.

Macarena has never been there before and she feels this reckless type of euphoria when the breeze hits her face, the way you can feel every centimetre of your lungs filling up with the overwhelming amount of oxygen, when you feel it in your nose, your throat. How you can feel your mind clean up from all the dirt and useless thoughts. And your body works lighter, it feels barely touchable. It’s like flying.

But with the exhale, it all falls from you, escapes and you cannot even remember the feeling anymore. Like it was never there in the first place, like you felt like human all this time and nothing changed even for a minute.

And Ferreiro is back to her humanity within seconds.

Meters from the edge of cliffs, they get off the bicycles and lay them down on the grass which turns into a floor of stones and dirt.

“No one ever comes here,” Zulema says and looks down on the waves hitting the lower cliffs, fighting with them and trying to hide them under the surface, never letting go. She looks almost sad when she stares at it, “People prefer the beach by your town because this is less pleasant. It’s colder here and no place to sit theoretically. And it never feels like summer up here.”

“But you do,” Macarena joins her. Her imagination runs wild - falling into the water and breaking into the surface, feeling water fill her up until she can’t breathe. Becoming one with something so basic and existential.

She can’t lie, she does prefer the beach because this place simply feels too lone. Like all demons can catch up to her.

“Let’s say I’m not a usual tourist.”

The silence between stretches out and Macarena is not able to say how long it lasted because she stares at the profile of the woman who tries to act so mysteriously.

“You don’t have to ask, you know,” Zulema turns to her, bangs completely flown all over the place only not the forehead.

“Ask what?” Macarena narrows her eyebrows and moves her head vigorously when speaking. The wind is truly colder here and she feels goosebumps all over her arms and legs.

“To kiss me,” Zulema smirks and pulls her closer.

The first thing she wants to do is push her away - it’s the middle of the day, close to this village and she can’t afford being seen, at all costs. She feels all of her fears creeping up down her spine. They will forsake her, whoever sees, and God, she doesn’t want to move again. She hates the idea of changing this place for another one.

Although the charm of Zulema, the one which makes her forget everything wrong with her life, works this time and soon she pulls her away from the cliffside, keeping their lips together.

They are on the grass sooner than later side by side, both of them leaning. Zulema holds her neck to not even let her move back for a moment. Macarena feels how she runs out of the air in her lungs but they part only when Zulema can’t keep up anymore, too.

“We should go,” Macarena says, shaking her shorts from the dirt, trying to get up but Zulema catches her wrist.

“One more kiss, I know you want it, _Rubia_.”

“ _Oye_! I bet you say it to each of your girls.” Macarena escapes the gentle hold and gets up, fixing her clothes and picking her bike up.

“Oh no… Only to you,” Zulema grins and repeats after Ferreiro until they are settled.

“ _Vale_ , let’s go.”

They ride for another hour or so until they reach unknown forest and Zulema leads them through it. They are situated in a hidden glade in the south part where even the ocean can’t be heard.

Macarena’s legs are begging to not be moved for another day but it quickly is forgotten after her shirt is gone and she is lying on an orange blanket Zahir brought with her. Her legs are holding on Zulema’s back and she tightens them around her middle when she feels kisses all over her chest and neck.

She takes off little elastic from Zulema’s hair and the black curtain is around them; it tickles her soft skin. Her mind goes from blank to mad, not knowing on which of touches she is supposed to focus. On hand inside of her shorts, or the one pulling her hair or the lips wandering around her exposed body.

After an hour or so, spending it lying on the blanket and messing around (also leaving a tiny mark on Zulema’s neck which she hasn’t noticed) they decide to clean up and head back to the town.

While they collect everything, Macarena hears a familiar sound. She stops in her tracks and listens to soft humming behind her in the sound of ‘ _Killing me softly_ ’ and when it ends, she decides to turn back and bites her lip when Zulema bends down again to fold the blanket.

“Will you be singing tonight?”

“Tomorrow,” Zulema says and packs everything into the bag she hangs onto the bicycle.

~

The clock strikes six p.m. when Macarena is finally home, on her legs which feel like they’re going to give up. She almost crawls back through the fence and the garden, opening the door with relief.

Maybe Zulema gave her hell in bed two days ago but she’s never had such soreness even then. That gives her a smart conclusion she is far away from a sporty type and perhaps, but just perhaps, she should start jogging or something.

She is back to almost an empty house and thankfully sees one person in the kitchen.

Rizos is throwing strawberries into the mixer and doesn’t hear her coming when she starts making the cocktail.

Macarena sits onto the counter by Rizos’ right side and grins, scaring the shit out of her friend.

“I’m gonna kill you, I swear,” Rizos says, theatrically clenching her heart. Then, she grimaces and continues what she’s been doing.

To make it up, Ferreiro leans in and kisses her cheek and it’s all it takes to ease down the anger of Kabila and she gives back her warm smile.

A moment later they are sitting by the kitchen table with two cold strawberry cocktails.

“Where have you been?” Rizos asks after devouring of her portion, drinking it almost with one sip. “We were supposed to talk.”

“I’m sorry, I had a quick change of plants…” Maca makes her puppy face. “I had no control over it.”

“Zulema,” Rizos calmly states, too calmly for her person. However it disappears, the softness, as if it never been there in the first place, when Macarena braves to nod.

“Look, Macarena- I-” She closes her eyes for a moment, collecting her thoughts; before speaking up to continue she gently massages her temples. “I’ve known you only for two months and it’s not long, I’m aware. But I’ve already seen many faces of you. And you never looked the way you do when you hear her name.”

Maca stays silent, wondering if it’s all truth; if the growing and bursting feeling inside of her is real. It must be if somebody else sees it too.

“God, look at you! You are glowing,” The tension becomes easier when Rizos laughs. “It’s hard to guess what your family exactly put you through. But Zulema seems to be pulling you out of it.”

“So it is positive, _no_?”

“It is. But if- no, when she leaves, I won’t bear looking at you drowning all over again. Please, just be careful.”

The warning tugs at Macarena’s heart as she smiles sadly, “I think it may be a little be too late.”

With that, Rizos gets up and rounds the table to lean down behind Maca and hug her with arms around her shoulders.

“Thank you for caring,” Macarena whispers and leans into the touch.

“I would be an idiot to not care.” Rizos rolls her eyes as if the idea itself was absurd but Maca can’t see it.

“You know you are just fine? Exactly how you were supposed to be.”

She nods and maybe for the first time, Maca truly believes it.


	5. somethin' stupid

Working is a nightmare, especially when Macarena gets ten hours of it without a break and she comes back by evening, falling onto the bed and curling up to sleep it off.

Nothing is different on this Wednesday she spends doing the dishes in a tiny restaurant in the south of the town. It’s clear she’s forgotten something important when her eyes close on her bed which she didn’t even make in the morning, hurried to the work.

Exactly this way she wakes up past ten and feels like somebody hit her head with a pan. Quick nap - they end up this way more often than less.

In the afterwards as her brain takes its time to find stability and wake up, something clicks - she almost blacks out when her legs run towards the door. Zulema has a concert tonight and it’s probable she’s already missed it.

She pulls on her denim jacket on the crumpled violet shirt with buttons and fixes her hair, not bothering to pull it into a smooth hairstyle.

Just this way she runs out into the night.

Macarena is praying to the God the password is the same and fortunately, _Black Ferrari_ stayed the same and she pushes the guard out of her way and a certain kind of relief is pouring through her body when she hears a voice she learned to know by the faintest sound.

She sees all the places are taken so she just stands in the door, not daring to disrupt while Zulema continues with that raspy voice of hers.

_And then I go and spoil it all_

_By saying somethin’ stupid like “I love you”_

_“I love you”_

Her eyes reach Macarena before she walks further into the room. For this short moment, they feel exactly like three nights ago when their eyes locked. Like maybe they are stuck in a loop and they will end up meeting each time, in every universe, in the same place but different time with a different song.

Zahir breathing gets so quick it can be heard in the speakers, as she continues. And this night her eyes don’t pull away.

_“I love you”_

_“I love you”_

_“I love you”_

Macarena realizes the song is finished when applause resounds in the bar and she joins it, while their eyes stayed connected above the room and all the people between them.

In a swift move, Zulema jumps down the stage and smiles at women around but her eyes come back to the one by the door time by time.

“What are we drinking tonight?” She asks, finally pulling Maca to the counter.

“I prefer staying sober.”

“What’s changed?” Zulema is surely making fun of her because she sees the little fires of amusement in her eyes, dancing just on the edges. The same way one corner of her lips moves when she holds back a smile, Maca can read it all in one glance.

“I want to see how something tastes when my senses aren’t drunk.”

“Oh, you’re playing with fire, Maca, aren’t you?” Zulema purrs right into her ear, so close her lips brush against the soft skin.

“Stop or I will kiss you right now and right here,” Macarena snaps back into the reality and moves back on her seat.

“And why not?” There she has her. Because Macarena realizes it’s only her own problem and it proves how weak she is. “You’re not brave enough.”

When Zulema grins at the lack of answer, that’s it.

Macarena gets up, pushing the bar stool and takes her purse, a grim expression to be seen from meters on her face. It is stupid, of course, she knows, but tears form in her eyes anyway. She wants to kiss Zulema so bad, _so bad_ ; yet the fear in her overcomes everything she wants; she tried to be so perfect her whole life and the definition of perfection fell apart recently and she is left with nothing.

She cannot go back to what she used to think but she isn’t able to breakthrough. Stuck in the middle of a fucking pit.

Several tears stream down her face but she tones herself down before walking out to the street.

Of course, Zulema catches her hand just when she wants to leave.

“Maca,” She says, too softly for her attitude and it confuses Macarena enough she stops to look at her.

“Just take me home, _vale_?”

When they head towards the villa Ferreiro rents, the blonde finally laughs, stopping Zulema and pulling the hand she is still holding, “No, I meant… I meant your motel room.” A

nd that’s exactly where they turn, with Zulema not even questioning the words once.

Spending only one night there, Macarena still has missed the place and entering it with Zulema behind, feels so soothing. And the bed underneath feels so comfortable, especially when Zulema turns on the lamp on the nightstand and joins her and kisses her, pinning her hands above her head.

Macarena sighs into her mouth and sinks into the kiss, feeling teeth biting her bottom lip and pulling so hard it hurts. And _God_ , she adores it.

At the moment, when Zulema gives herself into it, Macarena slowly frees her hands and entangles their fingers; Zahir’s hold becomes gentle and they’re just holding hands while their lips stay connected.

When they move apart, Macarena’s lips are tingling like never before and she wants Zulema to hurt them and bite them again and again until they are numb.

Maca stops breathing when Zulema brings her hand to her mouth and places a soft kiss on the palm of it. Then the brunette lets go of her hands to pull T-shirt she is wearing over her head to reveal a black bra underneath.

How vulnerable Zulema looks while glancing at her from the top, where she should be in most of her control. Yet it’s pure vulnerability. Quickly, Maca sits up ad kneels in front of Zulema, also taking her blouse off and pulling Zulema, hands on her cheeks to kiss her.

Zulema holds her waist, one of her hands wandering behind onto her back and sliding to the bra. It falls off somewhere on the bed beside them.

“Zulema,” Macarena murmurs into the skin as she leans in to kiss the brunette’s neck, gradually finding her way lower and then looking up. “Can I take yours off too?”

“I- Perhaps later, _Rubia_ ,” Zulema’s voice is shaking, and her chest is rising quickly.

“Of course,” Macarena smiles to reassure Zulema. She catches her off guard by pushing her down on the mattress.

After a few minutes pass and Zulema’s breathing gets quicker and deeper, Macarena sits up.

“Listen, I know it must be silly…” She starts and rests her hand on Zulema’s exposed stomach, playing with the waistband of her trousers. “But I don’t want it like the other time. I mean, it was amazing, I swear to God,” She chuckles and hides her face in her hands. Zahir pulls them down and links them with hers, pulling them on her chest.

“Whatever you want to say, you can tell me.”

“I just don’t want it to be a quick fuck, or whatever,” Macarena mumbles out, all at once. “I mean, if you like it that way, you can have me however you like.”

Zulema starts laughing out loud and Macarena pushes her to calm down. “Hey, stop! You are supposed to listen!”

“So I can have you however I like? I can have you on the back or on the stomach? Or perhaps on all fours, edging you until you cry for release? Or between my legs, eager like the last time? There are so many options, Maca,” Her voice shifts into deep growling pretty soon and she pulls Macarena with their hands still joined.

“You really want to have me, Zule?” She doesn’t give in and doesn’t break their eye contact as she licks her lips. “So badly.”

“And what if I do?”

_That escalated pretty quickly_ , Ferreiro thinks as she moves back to unzip her skirt and throw it away, to be left in her pants, already spotted.

When she turns back to Zulema she finds her sitting again, “Wait,”

“What?” Macarena narrows her eyebrows, ready to pick up her skirt and leave because it’s what Zulema looks like she is trying to do. Just kick her out.

“I want, I truly do but I’ve never undressed in front of anyone else. Since I was a teenager, I mean,” Zahir is playing with the buttons of her own trousers, her hair falls down onto her collarbone and chest when she looks down on the bedsheets. “And we need to do it on my conditions.”

Well, that’s not what Maca expected but she nods vigorously.

“So can I…?”

“Yeah,”

Macarena moves them to the upper part of the bed and starts to caress Zulema with her fingers while finding the clasp of her bra. She notices how nervous Zahir becomes so she asks the first better question that is in her mind:

“What song were you singing tonight?” Her fingers gently unlock the bra.

“You really don’t know it? _Somethin’ stupid, Rubia,_ ” Zulema rolls her eyes and snorts.

“Sing it to me,” Macarena slowly takes one strap off and then the other, so the bra falls down Zulema’s arms, uncovering her breasts.

“What for?”

“Do you have to question everything?”

Ferreiro is thankfully stopped from further arguing.

_I know I stand in line until you think you have the time_

_To spend an evening with me_

_And if we go some place to dance_

_I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me_

Macarena puts the bra down and pushes her to lay down, gesturing to continue singing.

_Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two_

She leans down and kisses her chest, closer and closer to her nipples and Zulema’s voice trembles when the tongue barely touches her, ghosting over them.

_And then I’ll go and spoil it all_

_By saying somethin’ stupid-_

Zulema stops and arches her back, feeling teeth biting her right nipple and opens her lips slightly for the shaky whimper to leave.

It’s easy to tell it can turn into senses overload so Macarena pulls away and kisses her on lips. After, she sings quietly, remembering the last lyrics from the bar.

_Like "I love you"_

She grabs a chance while Zulema’s body is still arching to her touch and she quickly unzips black trousers and pulls them down, so they share the same fate as their other garments.

“It’s a nice song,” Macarena says, and her smile is not ironic this time.

“It is,” Zulema breaths out and with a sudden move changes their positions, to hover over the blonde. “And your voice is not that bad.”

“Th-”

“Especially when you do this,” Zulema slithers her hand into Macarena’s pants to find her wet and instantly moaning at a simple touch of one finger.

Zulema keeps staring into her eyes while she pulls down the last piece of clothing. It’s clear she is hesitating to say something but she stays silent, busy taking her own underwear.

In the low light of a cheap lamp, they lay naked together; Macarena throws a leg around Zulema’s hips and the other she opens wider. Their eyes meet again and Zulema raises her eyebrows with a question on which Maca can answer without words.

With that, she places one of her legs outside Macarena’s hip and pushes gently, enough for their lips to collide and bodies to touch; they let moans into each other’s lips in the same moment when their clits meet.

Macarena whispers with begging in her voice when Zulema starts to move her hips against her, “Please, give me your hand.”

Zulema rests on her elbow to have enough stability to catch Macarena’s warm hand in hers and again interlock their fingers; it somehow became their thing tonight and she isn’t sure if that’s a part of casual flings. She isn’t sure if it hasn’t become more.

Every time she grinds, it is harder and quicker until she finds the right pace for them to move in, their wet folds touching jars Macarena in every good way possible. Eventually, she closes her eyes because the pleasure is unbearable, even more, when Zulema has changed the angle and breaths heavily with every push, straight into her ear.

Their chests flush against each other and Macarena bites her lip at the sensation. She wants more, wants more of Zulema, her weight on her body. She tightens the leg around Zahir’s hips and starts to raise with every push to meet her hips in halfway. Above her, she can hear a loud groan and Zulema lets go of her hand to rest on it and begins to move quicker.

Macarena opens her eyes for a moment, as long as is able to stay sane like this, and sees Zulema with eyes on her face and lips parted. That’s when she leans in to kiss her, but their kiss is sloppy and ends soon, as Zulema moves her hips in a different direction, making circles and resulting in Macarena whimpering lightly and pulling her down, hands on the back of her neck.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” She is repeating, accompanying with her own hips also circling. “Fuck,” Her words get stuck in her throat when Zulema starts hitting just the right place.

“Jesus Christ, Maca,” Zulema feels herself clenching, looking for something to tight around and under her, Macarena does the same; moans now leave her mouth shamelessly and without even an attempt to stop them.

“ _Mirame,_ ” She whispers and pulls her face away from Macarena’s. With the rests of strength, she brings her hand to the blonde’s face, bringing attention.

Macarena’s eyes snap open as she shakes her head, “I can’t, Zulema, I can’t.”

“ _Mirame_.”

There are tears forming in her eyes when she keeps her eyes open while the pleasure overwhelms her. Zulema grinds down one more time, keeping her hips down and brush them against each other, not daring to pull away.

Macarena’s eyes look like they are behind layers of mist when she comes, keeping the eye contact the longest she is able to. Zulema is right after her, her movements in halt, pressing her labia against Ferreiro and groaning while looking at Macarena’s face who is grimacing with a cry.

Zulema falls down next to Maca, untangling their legs and realizing in what state she exactly is.

“Hand me my shirt.”

The voice echoes in Macarena’s mind as she is completely starstruck and nods, not even listening to the words. When they finally click in her brain she turns her head to Zulema who is half-sitting, her back rested on the bedrest.

Her body is still shaking and her limbs tingle when she crawls up and places soft kisses on Zulema’s chest. She tastes sweat and feels the brunette is also still shaken after the orgasm.

“You don’t have to dress up already,” She whispers and caresses Zahir’s face. She finds an idea to keep Zulema vulnerable so she doesn’t close all doors already.

Quickly, she finds cigarettes on the nightstand and a lighter and hands them to Zulema with an innocent smile. She hears a grumbled thank you and the room fills up with smoke after Zulema lets out first couple breaths.

Macarena lies on her side and gently wanders her pointing finger on Zulema’s stomach, “How did you get here?”

“You need to be clearer,” Zahir also turns on her side, with the cigarette blowing straight into both of their faces.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I meant,” She chuckles and her heart stops at the smile she is given. “But where do you live? You can’t just disappear when summer ends, you have to go somewhere.”

“Well, I do. Somewhere away from here.”

“Where?”

“Oh, that’s a secret, _cariño_ ,” Zulema smiles again but this time it’s sadder. Almost grieving. “Every year different place.”

Macarena can’t imagine living like this. She changed her life once, by one hundred eighty and yet it was a lot, almost too much. And Zulema does it all the time like it’s a normal lifestyle.

“Haven’t you ever found something worth staying?”

“Almost.” Their eyes stay locked, lingering for a moment too long.

Macarena feels she’s being stripped out of everything; her skin, her muscles until even the bones are gone and her soul is bare, left in front of Zulema Zahir only.

~

They didn’t fuck. They made love.

And it’s stuck in Macarena’s head since she’s woken up to an empty bed and left the motel, putting the key in a flower by the door.

Right now, she is sitting at late lunch with Rizos in one of the restaurants closest to their house. Her mind is far away from what Rizos is telling her about the party on the beach which escalated so badly, police had to be involved.

“ _Oye_! Are you listening to me?” Rizos flicks her fingers in front of Macarena’s face. It brings her to reality and she quickly swallows food in her mouth.

“Yes, yes,” Macarena nods and smiles reassuringly. “So, you and Sarah hid in the car.”

Rizos studies her face with pursed lips, so long it makes Ferreiro shift uncomfortably on her seat. Finally, Kabila nods to herself and continues telling the story on which Macarena tries to focus this time.

It’s the same old history of Rizos and Saray getting into trouble and then leaving others to deal with it when they escape. God, she adores Rizos, she really does, but she misses conversations with Zulema.

Perhaps she misses all of her, not only the conversation. Her smile. And the way she pouts her lips sometimes. And her laughter, how her eyes can sometimes shine with danger while she finds a joke hilarious. And her gestures, the tone of her voice. Everything.

It’s all done when her name slips from her lips unintentionally.

“Zulema, listen-”

Macarena’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth with her hand and sees confusion painting on Rizos’ face.

“I’m sorry, Rizos, but I need to get her. I need to find her, I have to tell her-” Macarena stumbles over her own words while standing up and throwing a bill onto the table. “I’m paying today. I’m sorry, we will talk later,”

“What the hell? What do you need to tell her?” Rizos calls out after.

However, Macarena is already on the street, running to the motel. She isn’t afraid anymore. She has to show it to Zulema.

The door is closed when she finds herself standing in front of them like the night before, but this time alone. She pulls the handle again and then thinks Zulema must have not come back from wherever she went.

She leans down to check if the key is still there but she doesn’t find it. Only a piece of paper, folded in the middle; one of its corners is stuck in the dirt and hesitantly, Macarena pulls it out.

_Macarena,_

_The summer has ended earlier than usual. I won’t be back and by the next summer, I’m sure you will be away, too._

_Shall we meet again,_

_Z._

The short letter falls from Macarena hands. She won’t let her go, no. She won’t let Zulema disappear and run away.

She sprints towards the main street, two turns away to be met with crowded sidewalks and a couple of cars driving by. She basically jumps out on the street, close to being hit by a red vehicle.

“Excuse me, where are you driving?” Macarena asks when the driver opens his window. “Could you take me down the coast to the train station? Please, I can pay, whatever, just give me a lift.”

It honestly terrifies her how she storms into the car of a stranger. Her old self would never even _dare_.

It’s a man in his fifties, scared and confused, standing in place.

“Goddammit, just go!”

He turns on the engine and with Ferreiro yelling out to hurry up, they make a thirty minutes drive in half of this time.

There is such a storm in her mind, swiping every rational thought away in the hurricane of fear. The fear she won’t see the woman, who made her so sure of herself, ever again; it is a possibility. And even if it’s a year, only one year, Macarena can’t survive it without Zulema. All this progress would mean nothing without her; because it’s for her.

She runs from the vehicle, leaving money from her emptied wallet and runs to the building in front of her. It’s an easy way as she knows the place well - exactly where she got off with nothing, only with a small bag of documents and clothes, two months ago. Before she found a place the closest she would call home.

The train is already on the platform, signalizing it will set off any moment now and Macarena begins a marathon of her life, sprinting towards it. Black hair and familiar face flashes in one of the windows and she starts to hit the door to open which finally do and she enters the train.

A whistle.

Change in the wheels.

And it slowly moves towards another place, in another time.

“Where is this train going?” She asks a woman standing by the door next to her. Yet she gets the answer from behind her.

“Madrid,” Zulema says, one of her arms resting on the wall of the hallway.

Macarena’s heart explodes right there, and she doesn’t know what exactly she is supposed to do. Well, so it’s best to do whatever she wants and not what she should do.

So she brings Zulema, holding her face and kisses her while laughing and barely keeping herself together.

There are people everywhere around, but it’s Zulema, only her for Macarena. She kisses her again. And again.

“What the hell are you doing, _Rubia_?"

She is giggling so hard that it’s hard to catch her breath, “I have no idea.”

And then, she pulls Zulema to her again, hugging her and kissing, still laughing. She feels so alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just like that this fic came to an end.  
> i had a blast writing it and it's undoubtedly one of the fave things i've ever written.   
> thank you so much for every comment and kudo!!  
> lots of love xx

**Author's Note:**

> please, tell me in the comments what do you think!  
> i will try to post every week regularly on mondays or tuesdays  
> thanks for reading<3


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